


Valentine's Day Morning

by freewillandphysics



Series: Movieverse [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 01:10:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9855410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freewillandphysics/pseuds/freewillandphysics
Summary: Maggie Danvers-Sawyer wakes up on her 36th Valentine's Day.(This takes place in the same universe as "Five Times Alex Danvers Falls Asleep at the Movies" - tentatively named Movieverse, but you don't need to read that to understand this)Just a little pure, unadulterated fluff centered around tonight's Valentine's Day episode.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'ed. Written and proofread in one sitting at 2:30am, so sorry about any grammar/spelling mistakes.

Today is your 36th Valentine’s Day.

 

You wake up to your wife kissing you, to the sound of “Mags. Wake up. Open your eyes, sweetheart”. You smell something you recognize but can’t name. Your first conscious thought, after you clock the angle of the sun streaming in through the window, is “is Alex wearing lipstick? At six something in the morning?”

 

And then it hits you, all at once - the smell of fake Dr. Pepper, the waxy texture of the kisses she’s still covering your face with - your gay nerd of a wife got up early and put on Bonnie Bell Dr. Pepper Lip Smacker, just so she could kiss you awake on Valentine’s Day.

 

You were out shopping with Kara a couple weeks ago. Apparently, one of her superpowers is to find exactly the right product that your daughter will fall in love with, but will drive you insane - xylophones, yoyos, N’SYNC albums, water balloons. And then you get patented Kara Danvers enthusiasm, and the pout Jamie somehow managed to inherit from her aunt, genetics be damned, and Alex’s guilty puppy eyes that manage to convey I’m sorry/but look how cute they are/and they’re _so_ happy/and we got _so_ lucky/we’re going to _hate_ this/but she’ll _love_ it! in a matter of milliseconds.

 

Which is how you left the store with 31 tubes of Bonnie Bell Lip Smackers - every flavor they had.

 

And you may have mentioned later that night, after Kara and Jamie passed out in a tangle of limbs in front of the TV, and you and Alex were tasked with matching caps to their respective tubes, and _God_ you are going to regret this purchase, that you used to wish a girl would kiss you wearing Dr. Pepper Lip Smackers. That that specific smell always sends you right back to 6th grade homeroom when Angelica Morgan would put it on before she sat next to her boyfriend second period, and you’d wish for something you couldn’t name, didn’t yet recognize. So now that smell always feels a little bit like longing and a lot like hope, from back before you knew you were different and that the world would knock you around, and you didn’t yet associate pretty girls and glossy lips with a hastily packed duffle bag, and a slamming door.

 

Alex has been all about corrective emotional experiences the past few years. You’d both delved into your pasts and you told her about how you’ve had a few therapists that helped. She was skeptical, supported you in anything, but adamant that it wasn’t for her. Until one close call too many mixed with the sleep deprivation that comes with a baby at home left her struggling to cope. So now your soldier wife has a therapist she sees twice a month, and casually uses phrases like “corrective emotional experiences”.

 

This conversation wasn’t especially long or deep. Just a few throwaway lines and a joke about how the lip gloss your daughter carefully, but generously, applied to most of the space between Alex's nose and chin, is a good look on her. She sends a quick retort back about how she might have to add it to her beauty regimen. But she knows. She knows most of your stories. Knows when something matters to you.

 

So Jamie “loses” her tube of Dr. Pepper. Alex refers to it as “commandeering” - official police business.

 

Alex is down for pretty much whatever fantasy you lay on her, but a lot of your favorite ones aren’t especially sexy. Like how when you first started dating, she would serve you your favorite breakfast, sometimes without even commenting on how gross she found it, in only your softest flannel button down.

 

Or how, for your first anniversary, she learned the Spanish lyrics of a few songs so that she could sing them into your ear as you slow danced to one of your favorite albums in the kitchen, because you confessed to her one night that when you were a teenager you’d imagine dancing with the woman you’d spend the rest of your life with in the kitchen you shared when you were especially lonely, and all the years of cynicism since hadn’t quite washed that particular daydream away.

 

Or how every day for the past few weeks, she’ll come up to you at some point, smelling like one of your daughter’s Lip Smackers, and telling you that you are the prettiest girl in school, or asking you if you’ll meet her behind the bleachers later, or promising that she’ll help you get your calculus grade up if you buy her a burger first. (Your wife is if nothing if not a nerd, even when she’s pretending).

 

You think that you’re entire life with Alex Danvers has been one long corrective emotional experience.

 

Like your first Valentine’s Day together, when you lost your battle with the truth and then ran out on her. And then did everything you could to make it up to her. When you rented out an entire hall and filled it with all the crap you hate just to see her smile. And you ended up having a pretty great night dancing, and drinking, and laughing.

 

She tried to talk to you, _really_ talk to you, and you told her that you’d have plenty of time, but you only get to enjoy Valentine’s Day prom once, and you both agreed to push your emotions down, for just a little while.

 

But later that night, as you were drifting off to sleep, and she was lying naked on top of you, you heard a tentative “Mags?” After your sleepy “yeah?” she propped herself up on her elbow, head in her hand, and looked at you, with her wide, sincere eyes, and said “I know we’re going to talk later, and that’s _fine_ , but I just...I...You know what you said? About how I deserve an amazing romance?” - Alex has a habit of remembering exactly what you say all the time. It goes a long way in making you feel heard, but it tends to come back to bite you during arguments - “Babe, tonight was _perfect_ , every moment of it, and I, I _love_ that you did all of that for me, but I don’t _need_ some grand romance with dresses and champagne and...balloons, the only thing I _need_ is you, okay? I mean yeah, I missed out on a lot of romantic cliches and they’re fun, but the thing I was waiting 28 years for is _you_.”

 

You felt so overwhelmed, and you tried to interrupt her with a quiet “Al...”, to tell her that you _want_ to give her all of those things. And she said “wait, I’m almost done, I just,” and then asked you silently with her eyes if she could continue, and at your slight nod said, “I want you. _All_ of you. Whatever you’re willing to share. Even if you think it’ll scare me. Even if it’s something I don’t want to hear. Okay? I want...I want Maggie Sawyer.” And then she nodded slightly, with tears in her eyes, and her lower lip pouting a little, like she always does when she’s done making a solid argument, closing up a case.

 

And despite spending most of the night with your clothes off, you’d never felt more naked. And you were still so afraid to leap, even though you were pretty sure that Alex would always catch you. And you didn’t want to ruin a perfect night with sad stories about your past. So you just looked up at her and said “Okay...okay. I want all of you, too.” And she smiled, and leaned down, and right before she kissed you, whispered “You got me.” And you had never been happier to have anything in your entire life.

 

That moment pops into your head now, when you open your eyes to Alex holding herself above you, smiling, and leaning down to whisper “Happy Valentine’s Day” against your lips. And she smells like fake Dr. Pepper, and she tastes like the love of your life.

 

And she’ll kiss you, and then you’ll tease her for being so cheesy, and you’ll have a quick conversation about whether or not you have time to make love before your daughter comes in, with her bare feet slamming on the hardwood as she runs to your room, and her mile-a-minute voice, and her grand plans for the day.

 

And you’ll help her brush her teeth and get dressed, as your wife makes you your favorite breakfast and serves it to you with commentary. And your daughter will echo “Ga- _ross_!” a second later.

 

And then Jamie will give you a handmade card, “Valentine” spelled wrong in letters she wrote herself for the very first time, and a sloppy kiss, and you’ll tell her that she’s the best Valentine you’ve ever had.

 

And there will be three red store-bought cards from your mother-in-law waiting, one for each of you, with four crisp dollar bills in Jamie’s, one for each of her Valentine’s Days. And yours will say daughter on it. And the only memories in your head that include “Eliza” and “Valentine’s Day” will be pleasant ones.

 

And Kara will come over, and pick up your daughter, call her “my little sidekick” to Alex's consternation before she flies her around the room. And when they’re done playing, she’ll kiss you on the cheek as she gives you a box of your favorite dark chocolate-covered espresso beans, and then wrinkles her nose at your breakfast.  

 

And you’ll think, for the millionth time, that the Danvers women are pretty well-adept at corrective emotional experiences.

 

And you’ll give yourself a moment to reflect on how little you have in common with the lonely rejected kid, and the angry teenager, and the resigned woman who all hated Valentine’s Day. But you’ll silently thank them. For hanging in there. For getting you here. To your family.

**Author's Note:**

> So I kind of couldn't let this little world go. 
> 
> I'm planning another installment set sometime between Chapters 4&5 of the last one, from Kara's POV. Where she finds out the lengths Alex went to get her through her first movie. 
> 
> Also, I'm on tumblr at freewillandphysics, so come hang out with me there if you'd like.


End file.
